Her hands are small, would be delicate if not for the strength of her grip. She tugs him by the arm, pulls him away into her room, presses him up against the door and hushes him with her lips. He knows this is wrong, knows what Karkat will think of this, but she is so warm on his skin and he hates her so much. For what she did to Karkat, for her obsession with law and order and all the fucking things he has resisted all his life, for her unseeing red eyes and her ever perceptive mind. She defies what she is, what she believes in; she is chaos yet she closes herself off, puts herself into boxes. He hates her, oh yes, and the press of her teeth to his lip makes him think she hates him too.
He wraps his hands around her arms, long and spindly fingers forming a circle around her lithe frame with ease, and spins her - presses her up against the wall and lifts her with one thigh between her legs, so that her feet dangle. He has control, he wants control - needs her to know that he is the one in charge here, that his blood and his power give him the edge. The smile she gives him is unexpected but not unwelcome, the glint of her teeth lending his fury fire. She grinds down onto his thigh, shuddering, but he keeps his distance from her and he does not kiss her. He has control. He does.
He does, until she arches up, somehow gaining the height to grasp at his horns and tug at them. Her strength, which had been hinted at before, is now made obvious with the ease she pulls him down to kiss him. Her teeth nip at his lip, drawing blood, and her tongue licks at the inside of his mouth with a dexterousness that should not have surprised him. He has no choice but to respond, nowhere to go but towards her, and his hands wrap around her horns now, tugging at them with just the right pressure to make her gasp a little. He moves his thigh, rubs at her crotch with it, and she moans deep and shuddering into his mouth.
Oh, he hates her. So much. He hates her, with her strength and her fragility and her hypocrisy and her contradictions. He hates her for her complexity, and how it is so on par with his own. He hates her for how big a difference there is between them, and for how she still fits so perfectly against his body. He hates how she bruises so easily, and how it takes so much effort to make her bleed. He hates, and he hates, and he hates.
And she hates him too. He knows that now. She hates him, and he knows why, and that's enough to keep him with her.